went quite early to British India, and distinguished himself there by many acts of bravery, as well as by his humane and honorable conduct.  So highly was he regarded by the East India Company, that he was selected for most important services, and assigned to posts of great responsibility.  He was past thirty years of age when I met him, on the occasion of one of his visits to England.  The attraction was mutual; and when he returned to Calcutta, I went with him as his wife.  Then came twenty years of a happy married life;—­happy, I mean, so far as a perfect union of souls can make us happy in this world, but miserable, at times, through intense anxiety for the absent one exposed to fearful perils.

“We had three children.”  There was a tremor in the voice of Mrs. Montgomery as she referred to her children.  “One only remains.”  She paused, as if to recover herself, and then went on.

“I lost my husband first.  Ten years ago, he fell at the post of duty, and, while my heart lay crushed and bleeding under the terrible blow, it leaped with throbbings of pride, as his honored name went sounding from lip to lip, and from land to land.  I had not the sad pleasure of being with him in that last time.  For the sake of our children, I was residing in England.

“Troubles rarely come alone.  Two years afterwards my oldest son died.  My home was in the family of General Montgomery, where I was treated with great kindness; but as my income was not sufficient for an establishment of my own, I felt a sense of obligation that is always oppressive to one of my nature.  This feeling grew upon me daily, and at last began to haunt me like a constantly re-appearing spectre.  It is now about three years since, in looking over some old letters and papers, I came unexpectedly upon a document written by my mother—­all the evidence as to this was clear—­and addressed to myself.  How it should have remained so long unobserved, and yet in my possession, is one of the mysterious things which I do not attempt to explain.  There is a Providence in all things, even to the most minute, and I simply refer the fact to Providence, and leave it there.  This document spoke briefly, but with no special particularity, of her marriage with a Captain Allen, and settlement in this town.  It stated that she had two children, a son and a daughter, and that in leaving America for England, she had taken her daughter, but left the son behind.  There was no suggestion as to the use to be made of these facts; but there was such a statement of them as left their verification, I thought, easy.  I turned them over and over in my mind, and in the end resolved to gain all accessible information touching the present condition of things.  To this end, I sent over about two years ago, a man of prudence and intelligence, versed in legal matters, with instructions to obtain all possible particulars in regard to my brother, his family and estate.  He brought back word that my brother was dead; that he had left no children, and that his widow—­if, indeed, she were ever his legal wife, which seemed to be doubted—­was old, in poor health, and verging towards mental imbecility, if not insanity.  That there was a large and valuable estate, to which I, as sister of Captain Allen, was undoubtedly the heir.